This is my psychiatrist's couch. Take from it what you will.
But do leave a note.
I still am a late middle aged former government worker marking time until the cliff.
Short Fiction, Doggerel and Insensitive Opinion are spoken here.
Every time you comment, an angel gets its wings. If you like what you see, please follow and share.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Christmas 1968 (Blogophilia 43.6)

It was an unusually warm Christmas Eve at my Uncle Archie's
house. My family had driven to Savannah from Orlando with a car load of
"Santa" gifts. I was 10, and had pretty much figured Santa for a
ruse, but I really didn't want to let go of the fantasy. It took
away from my parents fighting again and my Dad had lost his
job. There wasn't a partridge in the
pear tree for us, just ravens in the live oaks along the dock.
The launch of Apollo 8 was on the morning we left, so we delayed our start to
see it. The cartoons that touted and mocked the inventions of the future
were about to come true. All the
scoffing about lunar travel and it’s impossibility silenced for all time.

Our house was 40 miles west of the launch pad and the schoolyard at
the end of the street made viewing launches easy. We could see
the glint off the fantastical machine as the craft vectored away from shore.
When the dot made 15 degrees over the horizon, the thunder of the engines
reached us. The ground shook lightly as the sound rolled for what seemed
like forever. For a kid, it was a truly a California Dream to grow and be
that guy, the guy with the right stuff.

And now we were sitting in Archie's den at midnight,
watching the flickering black and white images from a fantastical place. The
sliver of the Moon framed in the small window of the Command Module. Fun and games ceased for the moment. The gifts that were all around the Christmas
Tree we ignored. All we cared about was Walter Cronkite's narration and Frank
Borman’s scratchy voice from so far away. In that moment, it didn't
matter that my parents were drunk and were likely to stay that way for the next
four days. I was a time for imagination and flight, and wondering if God
himself could see our feeble attempt to touch his face.
Here we are now 45 years later. Our imagination seems to be gone.
We don't aspire to the heavens, or even really to this earth. We seem to
be bent on our own appetites and destruction. Maybe we can change.
Maybe.

yes the race to the moon captured the imagination of the world...maybe that was the last time it was, when we all looking up at the heaven's with the same thing in mind... how they was doing and if there really was aliens out there that would get in touch with us now we had ventured to our nearest planet Christopher... so many unknowns then... but, alas, now its all old hat and even the launches only attract a few onlookers my friend... you have a very good memory of your childhood Christopher.. something that is not readily available to me until I read your blog my friend.. now you have sparked off a lot of stuff ... you had it hard then I see, the world can be a harsh place to live in at times Christopher... but somehow we make it though ... and I feel we are the better for it when it comes to teaching the kids we come into contact with now... a very though provoking blog pal.. :-)

I still make time to see a launch if I am anywhere near. The last time I did, I was in Savannah which is about 200 miles north of KSC. With the curve of the coast and favorable sky, I got a nice glimpse of a Shuttle going off.

I guess that Christmas will always stick with me. It was the first time we had celebrated anywhere but our house and things just were not right.

well the good news is a friend told us last night when she was hanging with some kids a while ago they preferred to use their imagination and play with sticks rather than a new shiny fire engine that one of the kids had brought.Maybe we just have to let kids be kids busy up their days with "educational" activities. Anyway this doesn't make sense but so be it

Morning Dave...It is Todd...I tried to comment this yesterday but my comment was lost after logging in

I remember this well! I was 8 years old and as I watched this with my family, I was awestruck and dreamed of a future that I believe will, in our lifetime, be realized! Although on the surface, it looks like NASA has all but given up on man'd space missions, They are ushering in an age of privatized space pioneers who will carry (the ones who can afford a seat) to mars as soon as five years from now. It was these launches that sparked my love for Science and Astronomy.

Wish I had been there to witness such a historical event but at that time I was in a far east country doing my duty for our country. I didn't even hear that the event had happened until a year later when I returned to the states. Time passes, things advance while others recede. It is a give and take world